


The Light of the World

by sessile



Series: Variations [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24657823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sessile/pseuds/sessile
Summary: A visit.
Relationships: Elizabeth Chambers/Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: Variations [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787182
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	The Light of the World

**Author's Note:**

> See end notes for trigger warnings

So Liz and Armie talk. Have _the_ talk. 

Liz is conflicted. He can see it on her face. This is both way out of their realm of functioning. They’re both in the dark here. 

She asks him point blank, “This isn’t about you just getting laid by someone new, right?”

Armie doesn’t know if it’d be easier or not if it was. He could put it down if it was, he could ignore it. It wouldn’t eat at him. It wouldn’t make him ask this. 

“You know I love you,” he says quietly. 

She nods. “You know I love you.” She takes his face in her hands. “Just don’t lie, Armie. To me, to him, to you. Don’t leave any of us in the dark.”

Armie nods quickly. He touches his forehead to hers. He promises. 

-

He meets Tim in New York. The city is so unlike anything in the world. The building converge over his head and block out the sun, but it’s a microcosm. It’s its own world.

Tim’s face when he opens his apartment door is open, and hesitant. Armie’s heart starts to race, just a little. 

Even once Armie steps inside, though, they just stand there awkwardly, staring at each other.

He’s nervous, almost jittery. He doesn’t know why it feels different now that it’s all officially above board. It’s like it’s the first time. 

It’s Tim who comes to him first. Steps into his space and puts his hands on Armie’s shoulders, staring him in the face all the while. 

Armie leans down and gives him a halting, open-eyed, and chaste kiss. But it’s familiar, and he can breathe him in. Tim’s grip tightens a little on his shoulders. 

Armie carefully licks in, just at his lips, then on instinct just fully into Tim’s mouth. Tim gives a quiet, low moan and Armie can’t help the rest. 

He hauls up Tim bodily so Tim has to wrap his legs around Armie’s waist, and he walks them straight to Timmy’s bed. 

-

They’re quiet, and they whisper, and Armie comes with Timmy’s fingers in his mouth. 

-

Armie doesn’t let them leave the apartment the entire next day. He might not be able to keep up but Tim’s still young enough that Armie can tend to him all day. It’s only by evening that Tim has to beg _no more, no more_. 

Tim’s fucked-out face and jerking his own cock is enough to get him to come on Tim’s sheets. 

-

Armie wakes, and the sun is pouring into the room, and Tim is beside him, reading a script and absently rubbing Armie’s hip with his foot. 

It’s like he woke up into a new life. 

Tim notices he’s awake. “‘Morning,” he says, smoothing Armie's hair. “Can we actually leave the apartment today?”

Armie breathes a laugh and buries his face in Tim’s hip. Gives a lingering kiss there, then a gentle suck. “I guess…” he says, wryly. 

“Armie,” Tim laughs, too, “Get off, I _can’t_ —you wore me the fuck out.” He lays a kiss on the top of Armie’s head. “I’ll show you some things today.”

Armie nods, content. 

-

After breakfast at the rattiest diner Armie’s seen in a long time, they go walk.

Tim takes him to a favorite bookstore in the Village, the most expensive fucking sneaker shop he’s ever seen, and down to St. Mark’s. “I know I’m being a fucking hipster,” he jokes, but Armie doesn’t care. It’s something to watch Tim in his element, where he’s home. 

Armie wants to kiss him several, several times in the street. He settles for smiling at him instead. 

-

They go eat dinner at some dimly lit place with dark wood and candles. 

Tim goes to sit next to him in the booth and Armie stops him with a low hand and a slight shake of the head. 

“Not a good idea,” he says under his breath at Tim’s questioning look as he settles opposite him. 

“I don’t think anyone cares, Armie,” he says, puzzled.

Armie murmurs, “Just in case,” as he looks through the menu. 

-

Timmy laces their fingers together as they’re walking back. 

Armie has to cast a glance about. He’s relieved to see the streets mostly empty.

-

He texts Liz, _How_ _are you holding down the fort_

_Harper had a tantrum. That was fun_

_I’m sorry  
_ _Do I need to speak with her_

_It’s fine. It’s not as bad as it was a year ago_

_Thank God_

_Lol  
_ _How’s Tim_

 _You know  
_ _Tim lol_

_Tell him I said hi_

_Of course_

He nearly texts _he sends his love_ but decides it might be too much. Instead he sends a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge. 

“Who was that?” Tim asks next to him when they’re done talking. 

Armie tosses his phone off to the side and slides his body fully over Tim’s. 

“Hi,” he says, looking down at him. 

“Hey.” A grin spreads on Tim’s face and he gives him a look of feigned puzzlement. “Did you need something?” 

Armie grins, too, feral. 

-

He fucks Tim up against the wall, his legs in the crook of Armie’s elbows, because he knows it turns Tim’s crank for Armie to manhandle him. He fucks slow and hard into Tim, just to watch the changes across his expression, to hear every moan he has to make.

-

It’s been hours. 

His body is aching and ragged, but he can’t stop. He can’t stop. 

“ _Ah, Christ, you fuck—”_ Tim grits out through a clenched jaw.

Armie hisses through his teeth and bends over Tim’s back to whisper into his ear, “ _I like it when you call me bad names._ ”

“ _Oh, God—you fucking bastard—”_ Timmy _growls_ , breath straining “ _—you fucking cocksucker—”_

Armie’s whole body _jolts_. “ _Ah, shit_ —”

He has to pinch the base of his dick, hard, and as soon as the moment passes, he jerks off Timmy hard and fast. 

Armie comes at some point within the cadence of Tim’s moans, his head pressed in between Tim’s shoulder blades and panting hard, his whole body in searing pain. 

-

He asks Timmy to help him make an ice bath. Tim gives him a look of alarm and confusion but heads down to the bodega. Armie just lays in the tub and hurts. 

“I didn’t realize you were wearing yourself out like that,” Tim says as he dumps a few bags of ice into the water. 

“I didn’t either.” Armie tries to compress as much of himself into the tub and breathe through the pain of the cold. 

“We can rest,” Tim tells him, and Armie looks up at him, at his face suffused with concern and affection, and he nearly gets up to take him again. 

He can’t. It hurts too much. 

He nods and sinks deeper into the tub. 

-

Tim gets them settled on the couch and puts in a DVD into a shitty player on an equally shitty TV. 

“What is it?”

“ _Happy Together_. Wong Kar-Wai.”

“I don’t know his stuff too well.”

“I just got into it. Fucking incredible. His work is indelible.”

Armie pulls the blanket around them more snugly, holds Timmy tighter to him. 

He falls asleep shortly after the movie begins. 

-

“—yeah, he’s fine. Got a little banged up. Showing me some workout stuff and of course he took it too far. Yeah. Yeah. I’ll try. Send my love to the little ones. You, too. Bye.”

Once Armie registers who Tim’s talking to, he jolts awake. 

“Were you talking to Liz?” Armie asks him, and he can hear the sharpness in his voice, instantly see it shock Timmy. 

“Y-yeah? Your phone was going off and I saw it was her so I—”

“Don’t fucking do that.”

Timmy just stares at him, then pulls himself fully away. “What is your problem?”

“Just don’t touch my fucking phone without asking,” Armie snaps. “Have some fucking manners.”

Tim gives him a look of pure and disdainful incredulity, then gets up off the couch. 

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the fucking couch because you’re hurt, but get the fuck up because I’m staying out here tonight.”

“Tim—” Armie exhales, frustrated. 

“Since when do you fucking care if I touch your fucking phone?”

“It’s better if we don’t fucking throw this in Liz’s face—”

Tim goes stock still, and Armie knows he fucked up. 

“ _What?_ ” 

“ _Shit_ —that’s not what I fucking meant—”

“Armie, I didn’t sign on to this to be your fucking _side piece, what the fuck._ I thought you said everything was okay...?!” 

“It _is—”_

“ _But?_ ”

“ _Jesus,_ Tim, we just started this! Don’t you think there ought to be some sort of fucking adjustment period—”

“‘ _Adjustment period’?_ We started fucking _six years ago._ ”

Armie can hear himself. He can hear himself. There is a part of his mind that know he's not making any fucking sense. But all of it is being drowned out by the pounding of blood in his ears, over his own shallowing breaths. 

When the silence goes on for too long, Tim exhales angrily and says, “I’m going for a fucking walk. Please have the couch empty when I come back.”

Tim slams the door on the way out. 

Armie puts his face in his hands and tries to slow his breathing. 

-

He doesn’t sleep. He hears Tim come back in, get settled, and shut off the light.

He still fucking hurts. 

He closes his eyes and tries not to think. 

-

“Armie. _Armie_.” A wadded up piece of clothing hits him in the face. “I don’t have any fucking food in the house so we’ll have to go down to the diner to eat.” 

He probably got to sleep about three hours ago. Tim is standing there, though, face like a storm cloud, so Armie nods his head and gets up. 

-

“So what was the deal with last night,” Tim asks flatly once they get their food. 

He doesn’t know. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Is this _truly_ all right with Liz?”

“ _Yes_ , Tim, she—I think she knew before I did. This isn’t—you’re not a consolation prize.” Armie stabs at his eggs. “I’m trying to do this right.” 

“So if I talk to her again, you’re not going to flip out?” 

Armie feels a low stab in the chest at that idea. He doesn’t know why. 

“No.”

He can feel Tim weighing in on whether to press him on this or not. Armie can only hunker down and eat his food. 

Tim reaches out with his fingers to delicately brush at Armie’s knuckles, then covers his hand with his.

Every sound in the diner becomes so amplified in his ears. 

_Can people see us_ —

“Tim, we probably shouldn’t,” he says lowly, drawing his hand out from under his. 

There’s a stillness, and Tim gets up with a loud of clatter of silverware. 

Armie just stares at his plate as he hears Tim storm off. 

-

He knows what it is. He knows what it is. He can see what it is, now. 

And it doesn’t matter that he does. He walks down the street, trying to hail a cab, and his mind can’t stop working, can’t stop imagining the judgment in their faces. They know, they all know, they probably can see it in his face. They see it and know what he is. 

He can hear every single one of those who has said it to him throughout the years. 

_Faggot._

-

He finds a hotel, gets a room, and drinks all the liquor in the room.

-

The buzzing of his phone is what wakes him.

He blearily looks at it to see he’s missed nearly a couple dozen of calls and probably another dozen of texts, from both Tim and Liz. 

His head is pounding. He group texts them the name of the hotel and location and that he got fucked up last night. Liz knows to let him sleep it off. He can’t remember if Timmy does. 

He falls back asleep. 

-

Armie wakes up with a gasp and then it registers—someone’s pounding at his door. 

The last fucking thing he wants is to see another soul but he can’t leave Tim out there like that, so he gets the door. 

“Armie, what the fuck,” is the first thing Timmy says, breathless. 

Armie pulls him into the room, then once the door is closed, into a hug. 

“Jesus fuck, Armie,” Tim says somewhere into his shirt, clutching on. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he breathes, still feeling a little raw and like shit. 

“Did something fucking happen?” Tim asks him, pulling back to look worriedly up into his face. 

“No, I’m sorry—” he presses a kiss to his hair “—no. I just got fucked up, that’s all.”

He can feel Tim hesitate a little in his arms, then ask softly, “Because we fought?”

 _Shit._ He doesn’t want to talk about it. 

“No… no, that’s not why. It’s… _fuck._ ” He holds onto Tim tighter, and buries his face into his hair. 

“... can you tell me why?”

_Fuck. Fuck._

He crushes Tim against him and tries to shut his eyes tight, but his tears start falling anyway. 

-

They sit on the bed, side by side, his hand in both of Timmy’s, and they talk. 

He dredges up shit he hadn’t thought of in ages, shit that he thought he’d blocked out. Scars, bruises. The daily humiliation. The fear. The indifference. 

“Sometimes I think that’s the thing that gets to me most, that no one did shit. The teachers knew, my parents knew. No one did anything. No one did a fucking thing.”

“You never told me before how bad it was.”

“I didn’t think… I thought I had dealt with it. It was over, it was done. People don’t step to me like that anymore.” 

“Did…” Tim reflexively squeezes at his hand. “Did holding hands set it off?”

Armie rubs his forehead, hard. “Yeah. I just… I could just suddenly see us, see someone looking at us, and thinking, ‘What a couple of fags.’”

“Fuck.” Tim curls into him and rests his head on his chest, holding him tight. “I’m sorry, Armie.”

Armie presses Tim into him. “I’m fucking sorry I treated you like that.” 

“It’s okay. I’ll be more careful.”

 _Fuck_. “Please, no, don’t do that. I’m fucking sorry, this is my bullshit, you shouldn’t have to—”

“Armie.” Timmy cranes his neck up at him. “It’s okay. It is what it is. I get it. We’ll take your time.” 

Armie tries to swallow away the tightness in his throat. 

The shame is just clanging away in his head and it’s like nothing had ever changed or got better. 

He just holds Tim until it passes. 

-

“When will you be able to come out to see us?”

“Maybe in another couple of months. I’ll try to make the time.” 

Armie cradles Tim’s beloved face in his hands, and kisses him again, and again, and again. 

-

He gets back, and he looks Liz in the face, and he explains what happened. 

She just holds him. “I know, baby. I know. I know what you’re talking about.” She sighs. “I remember what it was like.” 

Armie closes his eyes and just breathes. 

  
  
_Fin_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> tw: homophobic slurs


End file.
